


Sixteen Candles (And Then Some)

by novemberhush



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: 'Pretty in Pink' Ducky not 'NCIS' Ducky, Also Otis Redding, Although 'Pretty in Pink' Ducky has been in 'NCIS', Because Otis always sets the mood, But mostly fluff, But you read fanfic so you'll cope I'm sure, Copious references to 80s movies, First Kiss, Just ask Ducky, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not that you care, Okay shutting up now, Particularly teen movies, Some Swearing, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike Ross is readjusting to life as a free man after two years in prison, but when everyone appears to forget his first birthday after getting out, including his best friend, one slick, handsome Harvey Specter (not that Mike's noticed he's handsome or anything. Much.), he starts to feel a little unloved. And a little like Molly Ringwald's character in 'Sixteen Candles' who suffered the same fate until the most popular boy in school, one slick, handsome Jake Ryan swept her off her feet. Could some kind of wonderful, in the form of his very own Jake Ryan, be about to find a way to show Mike that he isn't as unloved as he fears? Anyone?... Anyone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixteen Candles (And Then Some)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingtoreachyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingtoreachyou/gifts), [Sairyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sairyn/gifts).



 

It was just another day. No big deal. At least that's what Mike told himself. So what if nobody had remembered it was his birthday?

 

He wasn't a kid anymore, he was a grown goddamn man, and he had more important things to worry about, like what the hell he was supposed to do with the rest of his life. He should be out job hunting, not wasting the day moping around his apartment. Besides, it wasn't like there were that many people left to consider the anniversary of the day he entered this world a cause for celebration anyway.

 

His mom and dad were gone. Grammy was gone.

 

Trevor was out of his life, for good this time he imagined, the anchor having turned rat and deserted the sinking ship that was Mike Ross a little over two years ago.

 

Jenny was God knows where, but he doubted she'd given him much thought these past few years.

 

Tess had probably forgotten he ever existed; he sincerely hoped her husband had.

 

Claire hadn't stuck around long enough to even learn when his birthday was, her contempt clearly outweighing whatever attraction she had ever felt towards him.

 

He hadn't seen Harold or Jimmy in over two years and although he was fairly sure they'd be up for renewing the friendship they both still had law careers and associating with him could only be bad for those. Jimmy had faced some awkward questions from his employers and barely held on to his job as it was after testifying on Mike's behalf at his trial. No, Mike figured he had caused enough damage to enough friends without adding their names to the list of casualties.

 

As for Jessica, it was a day unlikely to be circled in her diary with three exclamation marks and a smiley face next to it. She wasn't exactly the type Hallmark were looking to snap up even before he almost brought her firm to its knees.

 

There was Donna and Louis, of course, but they were currently incommunicado, enjoying their honeymoon in Cartagena. Yeah, Mike hadn't seen that one coming either. He supposed the last two years had brought many of them closer in ways they hadn't expected.

 

They hadn't brought everyone closer though.

 

Rachel had been there to celebrate his first birthday in prison, if sitting in a room with the other inmates and guards alike openly leering at his attractive fiancée could be called celebrating. By his second she had long since packed up her stuff and vacated the apartment they had shared before the shit hit the fan and he ended up in Federal Correctional Institution, Danbury.

 

When she jumped ship from Pearson Specter Litt to go work for her father Mike suspected it wouldn't be long before she bailed on him too. He was right. He wasn't sure which hurt the most - having to read the whiny, weak ass 'Dear John' letter she sent him or the fact the guard screening the mail, and by extension all of his buddies, knew he'd been dumped before he did.

 

The letter was long and rambling, but he didn't have to read it more than once to know every word was seared into his brain forever. Yay, yet another upside to having an eidetic memory, never being able to forget the asinine clichés and self-serving platitudes the woman who'd sworn to love you for eternity used to say, _"Sorry, pal, I guess eternity just ain't what it used to be."_

 

Boiled down to its essentials the letter read, _"I'm sorry. I can't. Don't hate me."_ When Mike rattled the whole thing off from memory to Harvey on his next visit he must've thought so too because the first words out of his mouth were, "Motherfucker's concise."

 

The sheer unexpectedness of the response shocked a laugh out of Mike, the first genuine one he had had in a long time. Harvey Specter and 'Sex and the City', who knew?!

 

He grinned at Harvey. "I always thought you'd be Big, but I suppose it figures you're Samantha."

 

"Well, I'm definitely _big_ , Mike..."

 

Mike rolled his eyes and looked away, pretending his mind hadn't just conjured up some interesting scenarios in which he got to find out exactly _how_ big Harvey was.

 

Harvey smirked, unable to help noticing the blush that had crept up on Mike's face and the way he averted his eyes from Harvey's. _Interesting_...

 

"Okay, so maybe I'm a little Samantha," he shrugged, still smirking. "Hey, no need to go all coy on me, Char," he said, trying to catch Mike's eye, "it's just us girls here."

 

Mike met his eye again, clamping down on thoughts he definitely shouldn't be having about his über-heterosexual best friend. "Charlotte? I always thought I was more of a Miranda."

 

"Come on, Mike, Miranda was a real lawyer..."

 

Mike laughed despite himself. "Asshole."

 

Harvey only grinned wider. He could do this all day. "Jailbird."

 

When it was time to go Harvey surprised Mike with a quick embrace - what else in front of so many prying eyes and a burly guard telling them to break it up? - and a whispered, "I'm sorry, Mike." Harvey had never been Rachel's biggest fan (he couldn't possibly think why), but he knew Mike was hurting beneath all the bravado.

 

He was right. All the jokes in the world about Rachel's shitty letter-writing skills aside (hey, he'd just been dumped via the postal service less than halfway through a two year prison sentence, he was allowed to be a little catty), Mike still blamed himself for the break up. Blamed himself for taking the deal, and for perpetrating the fraud that landed him in prison in the first place. It was asking a lot, expecting someone to wait around on you for two years, getting by on only watched, weekly visits, letters that were anything but private and a few snatched and monitored phone calls here and there.

 

All right, so people made it through worse. Deployed military personnel and their partners often didn't see each other for long stretches of time, didn't enjoy the privilege of weekly visits, and many of them made it work. Grammy had told him often enough the story of how her father had gone off to serve in World War II when she was a little girl and how her mother had kept the home fires burning until he got back. Absence had only made the heart grow fonder in their case.

 

Maybe he and Rachel were never meant to last. Or maybe he just wasn't someone anyone would think was worth waiting for.

 

  
Whatever the case, it turned out there was one person Rachel had gotten closer to while he was a guest of the great state of Connecticut. Absence, his absence, had made her heart go wander it seemed. He stopped blaming himself for everything quite so much when he found out she had moved in with Logan Sanders - from Harvey. He found out from Harvey because she didn't have the stones to come tell him herself.

 

Harvey thought Mike deserved better than being left to think he should shoulder all the blame for the end of his relationship with Rachel. Harvey deserved better than the swing Mike had taken at him right there in the visiting room.

 

All the fear, loneliness, feelings of failure and crushed dreams of a future he would likely never now have that he had tried so hard to bear the weight of came crashing down on Mike and he coped the only way he could - by lashing out at the one person he knew would let him. The punch hadn't landed, all Harvey's sparring in the boxing ring rather than the boardroom saving him this time, but Mike had been dragged away by the guards, yelling they were done, he never wanted to see Harvey again, that he was to never come back.

 

Of course, he felt guilty as hell when he calmed down. Talk about shooting the messenger. He tried not to think about the look on Harvey's face. Forget two in the knees, Harvey looked like he'd been hit point blank, centre mass.

 

Mike didn't even know why he'd reacted so strongly. He already knew the relationship was over, had known even before the letter made it official. Why did it matter what the reason for it was? A few long, dark nights of the soul led him to the conclusion it was because everyone else was moving on, except for him. Moving on, _without_ him.

 

He couldn't call Harvey to apologise. Not because he couldn't face him, but because his little stunt in the visiting room had earned him a loss of privileges. So he wrote a letter of his own. Said he was sorry, said he hadn't meant it, just stopped short of begging Harvey to come back again. Harvey didn't write back. Mike didn't blame him. He guessed Harvey had finally decided to move on without him too.

 

When his privileges were restored, however, he was surprised when the guard came to tell him he had a visitor. He also warned him against making any more scenes in the visiting room with his boyfriend. _Boyfriend??_ Mike had actually done a double take! He thought that only happened in cheesy sitcoms.

 

He found Harvey waiting for him in the visiting room, at their usual table he noticed.

 

"We gotta stop meeting like this, kid. People will talk."

 

"I've got news for you, Harvey. They already are."

 

He didn't miss the subtle nods exchanged between Harvey and a couple of the guards in the room. They reinforced his suspicion that Harvey was bribing some of them to look out for him. Guilt and gratitude swam through him. God, was he always gonna be a burden on this man that had already given him so much and who just kept giving? Was he ever gonna stop dragging him down, a giant frickin' albatross around the neck of a swan?

 

"Try keeping your hands to yourself this time, Rocky, and they'll soon forget about us and move on to some other poor saps."

 

That was all Harvey wanted to say about the last time they had seen each other. Mike tried to apologise, but Harvey cut him off, told him to forget about it. Then he launched into a story about Louis' latest shenanigans and Mike laughed 'til he cried.

 

If there was a slightly hysterical edge to his laughter, well, it was only because he had been so afraid Harvey would take him at his word and never come back. But he hadn't. He had come back, like he always did, and Mike's relief was overwhelming.

 

The conversation flowed and for a little while Mike could pretend they were back in Harvey's office, shooting the shit and playing Horse, just like the good old days. Butch and Sundance ride again. Batman and Robin, kicking ass and taking names. Andy and Red, talking movies and taking up that get busy livin' or get busy dyin' credo.

 

Harvey could pretend too, for a little while. Pretend everything was fine, that he wasn't falling apart without Mike by his side, day in, day out.

 

"Why didn't you write back?", Mike asked out of the blue. "Why didn't you reply to my letter?" The question had been nagging at the back of his mind from the moment he saw Harvey waiting there for him when he walked into the visiting room.

  
On seeing Harvey's confused expression he thought for a second maybe he had never received it, but then he saw realisation dawn.

 

"I didn't think I had to. You knew I'd be back."

 

The look that passed over Mike's face damn near broke Harvey's heart. The kid had been doing that a lot to him recently. Hell, who was he kidding? His heart had been Mike's to raise up or cut down as he pleased, whether he knew it or not, for years now. Pretty much from the start really.

 

But the bowed head that hadn't ducked quite quick enough to hide the quivering bottom lip and desolate look in the eyes that Harvey had come to know every facet of made that same heart stutter now. Jesus, didn't the idiot _know_?

 

"You knew that, right?"

 

The lowered head shook from side to side twice in quick succession.

 

"Mike. Mike, listen to me and listen good," Harvey intoned, leaning in, voice low, but in deadly earnest. "I am always coming back. You hear me? _I am always coming back_. That's just a fact. And there's nothing you could say or do that would change that fact. You're stuck with me, kid, like it or not. And when you get out of here I'll be there waiting for you at the front gate. And then neither of us are ever coming back here again. Okay?"

 

He instinctively reached his hand out to cover Mike's, but stopped himself in time. He didn't want to make life any more difficult for him in here and being seen holding hands with another man in the visiting room might draw unwanted attention his way. He suspected their little tiff last time had probably already been chalked up to a lovers' quarrel in some quarters. They didn't need to add any more fuel to the fire.

 

Mike had caught the slight movement out of the corner of his eye though and looked up, something akin to hope blooming in those eyes again. A small smile now played on those lips Harvey was having a hard time not staring at. He wanted to know if they tasted as good as they looked.

 

He shook the thought away and smiled too, not the shark lawyer's smirk or the wolfish playboy's grin, but the one he reserved only for Mike. Soft, real, lighting up his whole face, reaching all the way to his eyes and making them shine impossibly brighter. It never failed to take Mike's breath away.

 

"Okay. Thanks, Harvey." Mike spoke softly, breathless, but Harvey was confident he had got the message.

 

After that the game faces went back on, neither wanting the other to worry about them any more than they already did, but they knew each other too well for that now. They could see straight through the fronts and recognise the toll Mike being in this place was taking on both of them.

 

Of course, the visit was over far too soon. It always was. But Harvey would come back again.

 

And he did. Visiting worked on a points system. Every inmate got twelve points a month and when those were used up that was it for visitors until the following month. Visiting was on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. A visit on Saturday or Sunday cost two points, on Monday, one.

 

Harvey came every Sunday and Monday, without fail. He didn't have to sacrifice any of his days to Rachel any more like he had in the past, letting Mike have as much time with her as possible. Mike had always hated it when Harvey had ceded one of his days to her. He knew he was doing it for him, but Mike had wanted to see Harvey just as much as he wanted to see Rachel. Truth be told, he wanted to see him more.

 

Mike lived for Sundays and Mondays. So did Harvey. Neither of them admitted it to anyone but themselves.

 

Occasionally Donna would come too, but she didn't have the stomach for seeing Mike in that place so it wasn't often. It was from her though that Mike learned Harvey was staying in some nearby fleabag motel every Sunday night, Danbury not famous for its luxury hotels.

 

It made sense to stay over after Sunday's visit rather than making the drive from New York to Danbury then back to New York then back to Danbury again for Monday's visit, but still Mike was touched. Harvey didn't stay in anything less than five stars, but for him he was spending four nights a month in some cheap, crappy motel, probably surrounded by other inmates' families.

 

Other inmates' families. That implied Harvey was Mike's family, implied Harvey was Mike's, full stop. Mike liked that implication. He couldn't help but wonder at all the things Harvey had done for him, was still doing for him. Would Rachel have done as much? Would anyone? They weren't difficult questions to answer. Nobody ever did the things for him Harvey did, his parents and Grammy aside, and they were obligated by blood and love. Harvey was not obligated by blood.

 

And so it had went, living for a few brief bursts of colour and comfort, laughter and escape two days a week, life grey and drab, sometimes frightening, and ticking by oh so slowly the other five. Stuck in a purgatory of his own making because he had lost faith, caught between his old life and the new one to come. He didn't know what would come next, but he knew his life would forevermore be divided between 'before' and 'after'.

 

So here he was. His first birthday 'after'. And no one had remembered. He felt like Molly Ringwald in 'Sixteen Candles'. He laughed at himself for feeling like Molly Ringwald in anything.

 

In his head he heard Harvey laughing at him too, saying he always knew Mike was the Princess. The Brain. The Basket Case. The Criminal. Harvey was obviously the Athlete. He smiled, thinking what quotes from 'The Breakfast Club' Harvey might hit him with. Then he stopped smiling because he remembered Harvey had forgotten his birthday.

 

He wasn't angry with Harvey. How could he be when he had done so much for him, had been the one constant in his life for years now?

 

Harvey had gotten him through the last two years and the adjustment period that followed. He was the one waiting for him at the gate with a fierce hug and a 'Blues Brothers' reference ("Get in, Joliet Jake. We're putting the band back together.") the day he was released, just as he said he would be, despite it being a weekday and him having to take off work again to make the drive up there.

 

He was the one who took Mike back to his place that day because he knew he couldn't face going back to the apartment he had shared with Rachel just yet, knew he didn't want to be alone his first night out.

 

He was the one who let Mike use his obscenely opulent bathroom to enjoy his first decent (and private) hot shower in two years. The one who set him up in his guest room ("I'm guessing you won't be bitching about the thread count this time around, Martha Stewart.") and left brand new clothes laid out on the bed for him to change into once he dried off. Not a Harvard t-shirt in sight Mike was pleased to note. That would have been cutting a little too close to the bone right then.

 

The one who bought in all Mike's favourite foods so he could make him his first home cooked meal in two years if he wanted but who also had reservations at each of Mike's favourite restaurants in case he wanted to go out.

 

The one who also had the number of Mike's favourite burger place, sushi place and the place that made the pizza with cheese in the crust that had become the stuff of legend programmed into his speed dial in the event neither of the first two choices appealed.

 

He was the one who had done all this, and more.

 

_He was the one._

 

They had gone with the home cooked option in the end, Mike not ready to face the outside world yet, and moved easily together round Harvey's kitchen preparing steaks with all the trimmings, Otis playing softly in the background. Mike could put all the anxiety he felt about not knowing what his future held aside for one more night and just enjoy being with Harvey.

 

It didn't stop him offering to shank him with a steak knife when he suggested 'Cool Hand Luke', 'The Shawshank Redemption' or 'Lock Up' as possible after dinner movies though.

 

"Wow, threatening to start a knife fight, Mike? I guess prison really does change a  
man."

 

Putting on his best Stallone (read, terrible) Mike mumbled, "I just wanted to do my time, Captain."

 

"'Lock Up' it is, Sly." Harvey gave him a lopsided grin, but then his face grew serious and he looked at Mike for a lingering moment. "Mike, I'm glad... I'm happy you're... I'm so... Welcome home, Mike." His voice started to crack as he grabbed Mike and pulled him into their second fierce hug of the day. Mike went more than willingly, his arms curling around Harvey's waist like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver.

 

Neither of them knew how long they stood there, quietly embracing, breathing each other in, Harvey not even trying to deny the kick he got out of the scent of his own exorbitantly expensive body wash on Mike's skin, Mike wanting to bury his head in the crook of Harvey's neck and stay there forever, both savouring the unguarded, in all senses of the word, closeness they had both craved for so long.

 

If they had started to sway in time together a little when 'These Arms of Mine' came on, one of Harvey's hands on the small of Mike's back, the other, usually so steady, now trembling slightly as it glided up and down the length of his spine, sending little shivers cascading down it with every turn, they never said a goddamn word about it.

 

Just like they never said a word about how when they finally parted both their shoulders were a little damp.

 

As 'Love Man' came on the record player Harvey playfully shoved Mike away and croaked, "Come on, Frances, start making yourself useful or we'll never eat tonight."

 

Mike tried not to miss the warmth of Harvey's body pressed close to his and putting on his best pout said petulantly, "Hey - I carried a watermelon."

 

Harvey roared with laughter. "Well, in that case I'll make sure nobody puts Baby in a corner."

 

They stood grinning at each other like idiots. "I can't believe we're quoting 'Dirty Dancing'," Mike said, still smiling.

 

"It's all Otis' fault," Harvey responded. "Donna would be proud. Not that we're ever going to tell her."

 

"Never, ever," Mike agreed, miming locking his lips and throwing away the key.

 

Then, unable to resist, he'd mimed unlocking them again and quipped, "Hey, how about we watch 'Stir Crazy' after dinner?"

 

Harvey snorted. They looked at each other, both knowing exactly what was coming next. Falling into perfect sync with one another, picking right up where they left off two years ago, they whipped out their best (read, terrible) Richard Pryor impressions, "That's right, that's right, we bad!"

 

As they burst into laughter again, both more than a little high from their reunion, no help from the coffee cart guy required, Mike felt a part of himself he thought he had buried forever claw its way to the surface again and take its first breath in two years. Resurrection felt good.

 

No, Mike wasn't angry with Harvey. And he knew he had no goddamn right to feel disappointed in him. The firm had almost folded two years ago, thanks to Mike and his little charade, and he was aware that for quite a while there almost every day had thrown up another dogfight for Harvey and what remained of the Pearson Specter Litt family to face.

 

They were starting to get back on an even keel again, but they still needed to attract all the clients they could. Harvey had more important things to worry about than whether Mike preferred red velvet or double chocolate fudge cake with vanilla and white chocolate buttercream frosting for his birthday. (For the record, double chocolate fudge with vanilla and white chocolate buttercream frosting just like Grammy used to make every time.)

 

Mike just missed him was all. They had spent almost every night together since he got out, first at Harvey's place and then splitting the time between it and Mike's, Mike keeping Harvey up to date on the latest with his job search, Harvey informing Mike on what was happening with the firm.

 

Mike knew he should probably be out meeting new people, making a new life for himself, and giving Harvey the space and freedom to do the same, but apart from a couple of dinners with the new Mr. and Mrs. Litt, and one with Jessica, it had been just him and Harvey almost every night, for weeks now. They couldn't stay away from each other. It was as if they were trying to make up for two years of separation.

 

Harvey had told Mike he could stay in his guest room for as long as he wanted, but not wanting to be any more of a burden on Harvey than he already felt he had been he'd moved back into his own place after a week. The move had left both of them feeling bereft.

 

Neither could admit home for them had become wherever the other one was.

 

Mike's savings weren't going to last forever and he knew it would make sense to put his apartment on the market and move to a cheaper part of the city while he tried to find himself a new job but that would mean leaving Manhattan, and Harvey was in Manhattan, so he kept putting it off. He kept waiting for Harvey to suggest it, but he never did. Mike tried not to read too much into that fact.

 

Harvey had actually texted him that morning. He smiled when he saw the name on his phone display and opened it expecting to see something like, _Happy Birthday, douchebag_. Instead he read, _Hey, big dinner with the new client tonight. Pizza's on me tomorrow night._ That was it.

 

He swallowed something that felt strangely like disappointment and texted back, _Sure, no problem. Good luck with the client_.

 

He smiled again when the phone buzzed once more a few seconds later, thinking Harvey was going to say, _Ha! Had you going there, didn't I, birthday boy!_ But this time it simply read, _You know me, Mike, I make my own luck._

 

He spent the rest of the day waiting for a follow-up text, imagining Harvey apologetic and contrite. Well, as apologetic and contrite as Harvey Specter ever got. Something like, _Sorry I forgot your birthday, kid. I'll take you to Disneyland next year, I promise_. But there was nothing.

 

And now it was after 11 p.m., and his birthday would soon be over for another year. Otis was once again playing in the background, Mike finding solace in the artist's sweet sounds more and more these days. Naturally it made him think of Harvey, soul being one of his favourite genres. But it was more than that. The music itself reminded him of Harvey - soulful, timeless, ballsy. Smooth as a Macallan 25 and gritty as a dirt road.

 

Maybe it was listening to Mr. Redding watchin' the tide roll away or maybe he'd been loving Harvey too long to stop now, but Mike had to admit to himself there was only one person he really cared about remembering his birthday and considering it an event worth celebrating. Harvey. It had always been Harvey. If he was being honest with himself, and two years in a federal prison had taught him the importance of being just that, he had always known it was Harvey.

 

When he had been going through the motions with Jenny, it had really been Harvey he wanted. When he had been screwing around with Tess, it had really been Harvey he wanted. When he had made the decision to get involved with Rachel, it had really been, well, you get the picture.

 

It wasn't that he hadn't cared for Rachel. He had, deeply. But she was always the safe option, second best. When he put it like that he couldn't in good conscience blame her for making a life for herself with someone else. He had wanted Harvey, even then, but he'd wanted stability, security and a steady relationship too. And back then Harvey Specter didn't do relationships. Back then he wouldn't even admit he did emotions.

 

Mike knew better now, of course, but then he had been scared of giving his whole heart, his whole life, to this man who already occupied most of it and who he wasn't sure could reciprocate. So he had taken the safe option. And look how that had turned out.

 

No, Mike was done playing it safe. It was time to go after what he really wanted. _Who_ he really wanted. He vowed to let Harvey know exactly how much he meant to him before he turned another year older.

 

The universe must have approved of his plan because it was at that exact moment he heard the knock on his front door. Harvey's knock. He'd know it anywhere.

 

He hadn't forgotten! Of course he hadn't. This was Harvey. He never forgot about Mike.

 

Leaping off the couch Mike practically ran to the door, stopping only at the mirror beside it to give himself a quick once over. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tame it into something half presentable. He had no idea what he was going to do about the stupidly happy grin that had taken over half his face.

 

Harvey's dulcet tones floated through the door between them. "Any time tonight would be good, Jean Valjean!"

 

"Yeah, yeah, we get it, I was in prison!"

 

"I'm not getting any younger out here, and neither are you in there, you know!"

 

"Hold your horses, cowboy. I'm coming!"

 

"What's taking you so long? You're right there! I can hear you! What are you doing, Princess? Fixing your hair? You don't need to do that for me. I saw you with that frightmare you called a hairstyle two years ago, remember? If that didn't scare me away I think it's safe to assume nothing will."

 

 _Jesus, what, does the guy have X-ray vision or something?! Maybe he really is Superman after all_ , Mike thought. That was all right. He'd be his Jimmy Olsen any day.

 

After one final sweep through his hair he started unlocking the front door. "Okay, okay! What's your hurry anyway? Need to pee or something, old ma..."

 

His words caught in his throat, arrested by the sight that greeted him. Harvey with his face bathed in candlelight. Candlelight from all the candles atop the cake he was holding.

 

"Really, Mike? Still with the prostate? You need some new material."

 

Mike tilted his head, a quizzical look on his face, and pointed at Harvey. "Hey, aren't you the guy who told me you write 'Midnight Train to Georgia', you don't just sing it once?"

 

"Look at that. He does listen every once in a while."

 

Mike felt the stupidly happy grin make a reappearance. The one Harvey shot him in return made his stomach flip.

 

"So are you gonna let me in sometime tonight or should I save this cake for your next birthday?"

 

Mike stepped aside and Harvey made straight for the kitchen where he carefully deposited the cake on the counter, throwing an, "Otis. Nice," over his shoulder as he registered the music Mike had playing. He ran a quick eye over the cake to see if any of the candles needed relighting. They were all good he noted with no small degree of satisfaction.

 

He turned to Mike, still standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a look Harvey couldn't quite place on his face. If he'd had to put a name to it he would have called it 'dreamy'. But he was a grown goddamn man and he didn't use words like 'dreamy'. He gave Mike another of those lopsided grins and teased, "Hey, honey, I'm home." He pointed at the cake. "Surprise!"

 

Mike returned the grin and moved into the kitchen, indicating Harvey should turn around. "How was dinner with the new client?", he asked as he came up behind him, close, catching the seductive scent of Harvey's subtle cologne, and reaching his hands down over the collar and lapels of the suit jacket Harvey had already begun to slink out of. Smoothing it lovingly over his arm he took the jacket and hung it carefully on a wooden hanger in the hall closet before returning to the kitchen.

 

Harvey did the same thing with Mike's coat every time he came to his place. It had become part of their routine somewhere along the way and felt thrillingly domestic to them both. It also provided an excuse to step up close, to breathe in an achingly familiar scent, to idly brush fingers against a neck, shoulders, down an arm...

 

"Put it this way, I've had more fun listening to Louis eulogise his dead cat."

 

"That good, huh?"

 

"Yeah, the guy really loves the Republican Party and the sound of his own voice, but he's a big fish and we needed to land him so..."

 

"You gotta do what you gotta do, right?"

 

"Yeah, but I didn't think it would drag on so long. I thought I'd be here hours ago. Sure, I thought it might be a little funny to let you think I'd forgotten your birthday for a while..."

 

"Yeah, it was a real laugh-a-minute." Mike nudged Harvey's shoulder with his own and winked at him to let him know he was kidding.

 

"But I didn't intend for it to go on all night. I would have texted you from the restaurant, but I left my cell at the office. Luckily I got Ray to pick up the cake earlier today or you'd be standing here about to blow out the candles on a boxful of Twinkies from the nearest 7-Eleven."

 

"Hey, it's okay, I get it. You're here now. That's all that matters." Mike's face was earnest and open and Harvey once again marvelled at the strength of spirit it must have taken for Mike to not let two years in prison, scared, alone, away from everyone and everything he knew and loved, change him, to not let it make him become bitter and close himself off from the world. That strength, that spirit, that openness, were some of the things he loved most about Mike. Even if he did enjoy giving him shit about them.

 

Harvey shrugged, turning to lean against the counter, both hands in his pants pockets. "Well, yeah, where else would I be?" He said it like it was the most redundant question in the history of redundant questions.

 

Mike felt his heart swell in his chest. "And you even brought cake." He smiled softly at Harvey, suddenly shy. "Although I do kinda like Twinkies." _What was wrong with him??_ He had never been shy around Harvey in his life. He ducked his head and shut his mouth before he completely embarrassed himself.

 

His brain wouldn't shut up though. _Tell him! Tell him now! What are you waiting for?? This is your chance!!_ But somehow he couldn't find the words. What would he even say? _Thanks for the cake, and, oh, by the way, I love you_? You couldn't just spring something like that on a person, on your best friend, he rationalised. You had to work up to it, lay the groundwork. _Coward_.

 

Harvey studied him for a minute. The kid seemed nervous, almost... shy. Mike had never been shy around him in his life. Had Mike been having a harder time readjusting to life on the outside than Harvey had realised? Had there been signs he had missed despite all the time they had been spending together?

 

Harvey cursed himself for not blowing off the dinner tonight, big fish be damned. It was Mike's birthday and he should have been here with him, not listening to some old blowhard from the Reagan era waxing lyrical on the golden days of the Grand Old Party. He was going to have to keep a closer eye on the kid. For about the hundredth time he wished Mike had taken him up on his offer to stay in his guest room.

 

For now all he could do was concentrate on giving him a good end to what had probably been a crappy day. He nodded towards the cake. "Are you gonna stand there looking pretty all night, sweetcheeks, or are you gonna blow out these candles before they either become a fire hazard or melt into the frosting?"

 

Mike stepped closer, eager to get his first proper look at the frosted delight.

 

The frosted delight with a message that read, _Happy Birthday_ , _No. 4732-53296._ Mike shook his head and glared at an altogether far too pleased with himself Harvey.

 

"What? Too soon?"

 

"Cute. Real cute."

 

"So they tell me."

 

"You're such a dick."

 

"Hey, you got off easy. I was toying with getting them to draw a file on there. You know, a cake with a file? 'Course it would have been funnier if you'd got it when you were still inside..."

 

"Asshole."

 

"Felon."

 

"Did you think of that one all by yourself, Matlock? See, that's funny because he was a lawyer and he was old."

 

Harvey narrowed his eyes and growled, "Just blow out the damn candles, Junior."

 

Mike snorted and looked down at the cake. "What kind did you get anyway?"

 

"What kind do you think I got? Double chocolate fudge with vanilla and white chocolate buttercream frosting, of course. I can't guarantee it's as good as your Grammy used to make, but it's from the best bakery in the city so it shouldn't be too shabby."

 

Mike thought he might just melt into the frosting himself. He knew he was grinning like an Irishman at a open bar on St. Patrick's Day, but at that precise moment he couldn't bring himself to care. "Look at that. He does listen every once in a while."

 

"Yeah, yeah," Harvey mock griped, fighting the urge to reach out and run his fingers over that smile to see if it felt as good as it looked, "let's see if the best bakery in the city lives up to its reputation and just blow out the damn candles already." He grinned wickedly, a devilish thought having obviously crossed his mind. "You know how to do that, don't you, Mike? You just put your lips together and... blow."

 

Mike felt himself flush all over. He hoped it wasn't bright enough in the kitchen for Harvey to notice. "I, I think she was talking about whistling in that movie, Harvey," he stuttered.

 

Harvey cocked a roguish eyebrow. "Do you, Mike? Do you _really_ think that's what she was talking about?"

 

The air felt suddenly heavier around Mike, full of everything left unsaid between them. He couldn't meet Harvey's eyes. _It's nothing,_ he told himself. _Just our usual banter. He doesn't mean anything by it._

 

"Hey, rookie, where'd you go? Mike? You okay? I know it's getting late and I acted like a real jackass about your birthday and then I just show up uninvited... I can go, if that's what you want..."

 

Mike's head snapped up, his eyes wide and panic-stricken. "What? No, I'm fine! Don't go! You know I always want you here. I mean, you know you're always welcome here. You never need an invitation." He had taken a step forward without realising it and brought his hands up to Harvey's chest as if to keep him from leaving. He found himself staring into a pair of dark eyes that had been his guiding light for the past seven years.

 

Harvey found himself staring into a pair of blue ones that had been having an unsettling effect on his heartbeat from the very first time they met his. He was sure Mike must be able to feel the way his heart was thudding wildly against his rib cage from where he had his hands on him. He brought his own hands up and took gentle hold of Mike's.

 

"All right, Mike. I'll stay. If that's what you want."

 

"That's what I want."

 

"Good."

 

"Good?"

 

"Good," Harvey replied, absentmindedly rubbing circles over Mike's hands with his thumbs. "Because I wasn't going anywhere anyway," he proclaimed, smiling. "I'm never going anywhere, Mike."

 

He could have sworn Mike almost swooned a little. _Wishful thinking_ , his brain muttered.

 

"Now, come on, there's a piece of that cake with my name on it," he said, giving Mike's hands one final squeeze before they drifted apart reluctantly.

 

"That's funny because my name's not on it at all. Because _someone_ thought it would be _hilarious_ to put my prison number on it instead."

 

"I am not a number! I am a free man!"

 

"I was wondering when you'd pull that one out," Mike chuckled.

 

"Come on, it's 'The Prisoner', Mike. I had to."

 

"Yeah? Well, just for the record, your McGoohan sucks."

 

"Yeah? Well, just for the record, _you_ suck!"

 

"Really? I thought I was supposed to blow?"

 

"Funny, Chuckles. Now make a wish and get on with it."

 

Mike levelled Harvey with a disbelieving look. "Really, Harvey? You want me to make a wish? Just how old do you think I am anyway??"

 

"A question you give me cause to ponder daily, kiddo," he smirked. "Hey, them's the rules. If you don't like it I can always take my cake and go."

 

"Ah, that's _my_ cake, and _you_ aren't going anywhere, mister." One of his hands had again found its way to Harvey's chest.

 

Harvey looked down at the hand pinning him in place, then up at Mike. The eyebrow cocked again and Mike snatched his hand back, scrabbling helplessly, "With my cake! You aren't going anywhere with my cake..."

 

_Jesus, Mike, desperate much?! Just calm down. Make a stupid wish, blow out the candles, and calm the hell down._

 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, sending his wish out into the universe. It wasn't hard thinking of what to wish for when everything he wanted was standing so close he could reach out and touch him if he wanted. And he wanted.

 

Opening his eyes he took another breath and blew out all the candles, albeit a little self-consciously, feeling the weight of Harvey's eyes on him the whole time.

 

"How many candles are on this thing anyway?", he asked, voice a little uneven.

 

"Sixteen candles, and then some, Molly."

 

Mike rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh.

 

"Laugh all you want, Mike, but I know you were moping around this apartment all day, thinking everyone had forgotten about you, and just hoping your very own Jake Ryan was gonna show up at the end."

 

"So, what, does that make _you_ my very own Jake Ryan?", Mike quipped back.

 

"If it did that would mean we end up kissing over this cake," Harvey purred.

 

Mike had swiped a finger through the frosting and brought it to his mouth to taste while Harvey had been talking. Harvey's eyes had followed the action intently. Both of their mouths watered.

 

Their eyes met as Harvey's words settled between them but Mike couldn't maintain the gaze. Harvey read people for a living and Mike was an open book. One look into his eyes and he'd know exactly what Mike thought of that kissing idea.

 

Mike's mouth, however, wasn't as concerned with discretion as his eyes were. Maybe it had finally got the memo about not playing it safe anymore. "Hmm, well, let's look at the facts of the case, shall we, counsellor? _You're_ the one who showed up at _my_ door, with a cake no less, and called me Molly and started going on about Jake Ryan and kissing so maybe _you've_ been hoping for a few things too."

 

_What the hell, Mike?! Is that what you call laying the groundwork??_

 

He tried to laugh, to make it sound like a joke, but it came out sounding hollow even to his own ears. Harvey didn't say a word. Mike still couldn't look at him. He didn't know what to say or do so he started babbling.

 

"No, but seriously, thank you for this. It's delicious. Not quite like Grammy used to make, but near as damn it. You really gotta try some of this, dude." He ran his finger through the frosting again and made to bring it to his lips for a second taste.

 

Harvey had other ideas. Or at least his hand did, snaking out as it did and grabbing Mike's wrist. Mike's eyes widened, surprised, confused, wondering what the hell Harvey was doing.

 

 _What the hell am I doing?,_ Harvey wondered. He wasn't in the dark about his feelings for the kid, but he hadn't meant to just lay them all out there either. Mike was coming off the worst two years of his life and Harvey didn't want to make things any harder for him than they already were. He didn't want to be a complication in his life or put any undue pressure on him. And he really didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable around Harvey if he didn't return his feelings.

 

The plan, such as it was, had been to let Mike readjust to life as a free man. To let him find his feet again, and then maybe - _maybe -_ Harvey could sound him out on his feelings, see if there was any chance for him, for _them_. But he guessed that plan was a non-starter now, thanks to his hand with a mind of its own.

 

There was just something about Mike tonight, the way he was acting, the things he said, even the way he looked at Harvey. Or didn't look at him. Harvey had a hunch he might know what it was all about. He hoped to God he was reading the signs right and not just seeing what he wanted to see. But they'd always been all in, he and Mike, hadn't they? What the hell, he always did his best thinking on his feet anyway. _In for a penny, in for a pound_...

 

"Yeah, you're right, I gotta," he husked.

 

Mike's eyes widened even more as, ever quick on the uptake, he cottoned on as to what Harvey meant to do and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to whimper as, unhurriedly, giving Mike time to pull away if he wanted, Harvey brought Mike's hand to his mouth, slipping his lips around the frosting-coated finger and lapping at the trembling digit with his tongue, his eyes never leaving Mike's. He kept his lips closed as he slowly slid the finger out of his mouth again, ensuring the saucer-eyed birthday boy felt every millimetre of contact between them.

 

"Mmm. Tastes good. I could get used to that," he said, voice like velvet, soft and plush.

 

 _Now comes the moment of truth,_ Harvey thought. He knew he and Mike had been getting more and more tactile with each other lately, but that could be put down, on Mike's side at least, to being starved of touch, to having been deprived of the comfort of non-threatening, everyday physical human contact the past two years. But what Harvey had just done was not everyday and it crossed a line. A line they had been toeing for years, even if they had never acknowledged it, and edging ever closer to crossing recently. There was no going back now. But did Mike want to continue forward?

 

He was still standing there, a little shell shocked maybe, but still there. He hadn't run screaming for the hills and Harvey still had all his teeth so that had to be a good sign, right? Harvey felt something blossom in his chest. Hope. Dangerous, tantalising, beautiful hope.

 

"It's the vanilla," Mike said suddenly, matter-of-factly, interrupting Harvey's thoughts and snapping out of his stupor, as if his whole world hadn't just been flipped on its axis. He thanked every deity he could think of that he had somehow retained the power of speech. "You love vanilla." He quickly took back all those thanks. _Smooth, Mike, real smooth._  He groaned, "Christ, I carried a watermelon, didn't I?"

 

"That's okay, Baby, I still won't let anyone put you in a corner," Harvey murmured fondly.

 

Keeping hold of Mike's wrist, he ran his thumb over the gratifyingly racing pulse he felt there and decided to push his luck a little further. Their relationship had always thrived on banter, teasing each other, pulling each other's pigtails. Why should now be any different? He couldn't resist the urge to mess a little with his dumbstruck former associate.

 

"Although, coffee and cake aside, I don't like _everything_  vanilla..."

 

Mike's eyes widened again comically and Harvey couldn't help but be amused.

 

"And what did I tell you about calling me dude?"

 

"That I should never, ever do it?"

 

"Right answer. Good boy," Harvey said, gently drawing Mike towards him and wrapping his arms around him. "Now, why don't you tell me a little more about these Jake Ryan fantasies you've been having?"

 

Mike swallowed, hard. _Is this really happening?!_  The feel of Harvey's strong arms around him (and, boy, had all that boxing paid off) would suggest so. More than a little afraid all this was a fragile, wonderful, irresistible dream he would awaken from any second, he tentatively raised his arms and wound them around Harvey's neck, one hand finding its way into the soft hair he hadn't realised he so badly wanted to run his fingers through before.

 

"I think I can honestly say I've never harboured any up until now."

 

"No?" That damn eyebrow again. Mike wanted to trace it with his tongue. "Well, maybe you just need someone to inspire you a little." Harvey pulled Mike closer. "Wouldn't I be _outstanding_ in that capacity?"

 

Mike laughed and shook his head. Quoting movies? Now that was ground he had a surer footing on. "Well, I don't know. Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?"

 

Harvey cracked up. "Don't mess with the bull, young man, you'll get the horns."

 

Mike's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Promises, promises. Sweets, you couldn't ignore me if you tried. But I'm starting to think you're all talk and no action, Harvey Specter."

 

"You're right. I'm not a nymphomaniac. I'm a compulsive liar."

 

Mike laughed again, dropping his head to Harvey's inviting shoulder and nuzzling into that neck he once worried he was dragging Harvey down by. He felt Harvey bring one hand up and tenderly stroke his hair. His scalp prickled, the soothing yet stimulating touch sending shivers down his spine just like the night he got out of Danbury and he and Harvey had absolutely, definitely not, in no way whatsoever, okay, maybe just a little bit, totally, actually slow danced in his kitchen to Otis Redding. Goosebumps made their presence known all over his body.

 

"You know, fun as it is trading quotes from 'The Breakfast Club' back and forth with you and all, I was kind of hoping we could get to the you kissing me part soon." Hesitantly lifting his head to meet Harvey's eyes, as beguiling as they were beguiled, Mike wondered where he had got the courage from to say such a thing.

 

Wherever it had come from, it was all Harvey needed to hear.

 

Softly, slowly, their lips moved against each other, not rushing, not competing, just enjoying the moment they both knew their relationship had always been building towards. In the background 'These Arms of Mine' began to play and they both smiled into the kiss. Breaking apart to breathe, Harvey's hands framing Mike's face, Mike's buried in Harvey's hair, they whispered in unison, "They're playing our song."

 

They both dissolved into giggles, pure, honest to goodness, teenage girl giggles. And they weren't the least bit ashamed of it.

 

Then they were kissing again, more urgently this time, pressing as close to each other as was humanly possible, stepping on each other's toes as they tried to get closer still. Stubble scraped against stubble, lips yielded, tongues collided and danced together, soft hands roamed across firm muscles.

 

Mike felt waves of want wash over him. Harvey was the ocean and Mike intended to drown tonight.

 

Harvey felt heat rush through his veins. Mike was fire and Harvey was happy to burn.

 

When they finally came up for air, hair mussed, lips swollen, breath shuddering, they clung to each other like their lives depended upon it. It felt like they did. Nothing was more important than what was happening here tonight. They drank in every touch, every sigh, every nuance of the other's expression.

 

Harvey knew he'd never get enough of how Mike felt in his arms, how he looked after being kissed by him. Pink-cheeked, wet-lipped, bright-eyed and... dreamy. Definitely dreamy.

 

Mike for his part knew that taste in his mouth, that taste that was Harvey, was his new addiction, and one he'd never be able to kick, even if he wanted to. Which he resolutely did not. He already needed another fix. Harvey was only too eager to oblige.

 

When they eventually came up for air again, Mike was the first to speak.

 

"Huh..."

 

Harvey's eyebrows both shot up this time. "I'm sorry, ' _huh_ '? We finally get our acts together after seven years of screwing around and all you can say is 'huh'?? I expected more eloquence from you, Mike." He paused, a new, frightening thought having just struck him. "Or is it that now this thing between us is finally happening for real, it doesn't live up to the fantasy for you?"

 

He looked more nervous than Mike had ever seen him before. But then the old Specter swagger kicked in again, his chin coming up defiantly.

 

"Because I gotta tell you, I've never had any complaints before."

 

Mike smiled, wide and easy. "And you aren't getting any now, Mr. Jump-The-Gun. Your record remains unimpeached. What was it you always said about me interrupting you?"

 

"That you should never, ever do it?"

 

"Right answer. Good boy." Mike grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Do you think you could return the courtesy?"

  
Harvey nodded.

  
"Good. Now, what I was going to say before I was sorudely interrupted was, huh.... so that's what a wish come true feels like."

 

"Oh." Harvey was suddenly bashful and ridiculously cute. "So just now... with the cake... you wished..."

 

"Uh-huh." Mike leaned forward, peppering sweet kisses along Harvey's jaw. It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it. When he reached his ear, he began nipping affectionately at the lobe, smiling as he felt Harvey shudder at the touch, before whispering, "And seeing as I didn't get any wishes my last couple birthdays I think I'm entitled to a few extra this year, don't you?"

 

"Sounds fair to me," Harvey breathed, turning his head to seek out Mike's lips again. Those lips that definitely felt and tasted as good as they looked. And they looked heavenly.

 

"Your wish is my command," he heard himself say when they surfaced again.

 

Mike smiled, a wanton, wicked gleam in his eyes, "Well, in that case, I command you to get that tempting little ass of yours I'm having so much trouble keeping my hands off into the bedroom. Now." He smiled wider as he gave into temptation. He had never been one to avoid trouble and he'd always been a hands on kind of guy.

 

Harvey moaned. He had always appreciated the hands on approach as well, never more so than now, and what Mike had said was everything he wanted to hear, but there were a few things he needed to say too. He had waited a long time for this, but he could wait a little longer if he had to. He had to be sure, sure that _Mike_ was sure.

 

He gently eased Mike back a little so he could look him squarely in those eyes that once again were threatening to send his heart into arrhythmia. The little mewling sound that escaped Mike's throat at the loss of closeness gave him hope Mike was as invested in this as he was, but still he had to be sure. For both their sakes.

  
"Mike..."

 

"Oh no, Harvey, you don't get to do that! You don't get to finally make your move after seven long years and then get cold feet on me at the last minute!"

 

"Mike, that's not what's happening here, I swear." He kneaded Mike's shoulders reassuringly.

 

"I just... I need to know this is what you want, what you really want, and not just you giving me what you think I want because you think you owe me or something. Which you absolutely do not, by the way. And I need to know this isn't going to be something you regret. A quick fumble, because you felt lonely on your birthday, or a little lost after getting out of jail, that's gonna leave you hating yourself, and me, in the morning. I can't be something you regret, Mike."

 

  
"Wow. You really don't have a very high opinion of either one of us, do you, Harvey?"

 

  
Okay, that was not the response Harvey had been expecting. He furrowed his brow and waited for Mike to expand on his statement.

 

"I don't repay those I owe with my body, Harv..."

 

"I never meant to imply..."

 

"Bup bup bup bup! What did we say about you interrupting me?"

 

Harvey went silent. It seemed Mike had a few things of his own to say.

 

"As I was saying, I don't use my body to repay those I owe, and I don't use other people's to bolster my self-esteem. And if you think those are the only two reasons I would take you to my bed then you are seriously selling yourself short." He stepped in close again, his eyes never wavering from Harvey's.

 

"I'm in love with you, Harvey Reginald Specter, in case you hadn't noticed. I think I always have been."

 

"Love?" Harvey's voice was barely above a whisper, incredulous and awed, not yet daring to believe.

 

"Did I stutter?", Mike cracked, returning to the well of movie quotes he and Harvey both drew from so frequently, before reiterating, "Yes, love."

 

He sighed, taking in Harvey's still doubtful face. He took it lovingly in his hands and kissed him delicately. "You will never be something I regret, Harvey. I love you. And you know why?"

 

Harvey shook his head, wondering how the hell an emotionally inept fuckwit like him got so lucky. He was about to find out.

 

"I love you because you are the most loyal person I have ever met. I love you because you would do anything for the people you love. I love that I am one of those people."

 

Mike smiled and Harvey felt his lips graced with another sweet kiss, that smile he had once worried he might never see again now ghosting across his own lips.

 

But Mike wasn't done yet. He could do this all night.

 

"I love that you never need to make anyone else feel small to make yourself feel big. I love you for your generosity. For how you do so much for others behind the scenes and never take the credit."

 

"I love that you can be tough as hell and serious as a heart attack one minute then pulling goofy faces and practical jokes the next."

 

On cue Harvey pulled his best goofy face and Mike threw back his head and positively whooped for joy. Harvey felt his heart swell fit to burst at the sight. Mike kissed him again, once and brief, but infinitely tender, before continuing his recitation.

 

"I love how you always look like you just stepped off the cover of 'G.Q' whether you're in one of your immaculate three piece suits or a Henley and jeans. To me you are always the most handsome man in the room; any and every room." Harvey actually blushed and Mike thought he had never looked more adorable. He snuggled closer, still not finished with what he had to say.

 

"I love that you're cocky and arrogant, but decent right down to your core. And I love that you are the one person who can consistently keep up with me mentally..."

 

Harvey cleared his throat, "Ahem," and fixed Mike with a look that quite plainly said, _Oh, and **I'm** the arrogant one?!_

 

Mike shot him a grin as cocky as any Harvey had ever sported.

 

"Don't look at me like that, Specter. You know you love me for my brain as much as I love you for your heart. And I do, you know. Love you for your heart. You're a good man, Harvey, even if you don't believe it. But if you'll let me I'll spend the rest of my life making you believe it."

 

Harvey had no words to respond to that. _Let him?!_ If it was up to Harvey they'd be out looking for the nearest available minister or Justice of the Peace or internet-ordained Elvis freakin' impersonator to put a ring on it right now.

 

Well, maybe not _right now_. There were a few other things he wanted them to do first. But definitely first thing in the morning. Or maybe second. Harvey had a few ideas for what they could do upon their first morning waking up together in the same bed too.

 

Luckily for Harvey Mike didn't wait for a response. "And I love you for wanting to make sure I was sure before we went any further even though you are clearly dying to get you some of this," Mike continued, megawatt smile lighting the whole room, sure all right, sure he had never been happier than he was right now. Harvey knew how to respond to that. He snorted, but he didn't deny it.

 

Mike, still cupping Harvey's face, ran his thumbs adoringly over his cheekbones. "And I love you for what I see in those heart-stopping eyes of yours, which I also love by the way, when you look at me the way you are now."

 

"And how am I looking at you?", Harvey inquired.

 

"Like I'm someone worth waiting for. Two years, seven years, however long it's been for you."

 

"Mike, I didn't wait two years for you. Or seven. I've waited my whole life for you. And you were more than worth it. So much more. I'd have waited forever for you."

 

Mike's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but his smile was dazzling. "No more waiting, Harvey. For either of us. You're stuck with me, old man, like it or not."

 

"Kid, I've been stuck with you since the moment you dropped a briefcase of weed and a world of possibilities at my feet."

 

Mike definitely swooned at that, Harvey was sure, but he rallied quickly.

 

"Well, then, maybe we should start exploring some of those possibilities. Preferably in the bedroom. Right now. We have seven years to make up for."

 

"I can think of nothing I'd rather do, but first I need to tell you something."

 

"Uh-oh."

 

"No. No "uh-oh". At least, I don't think so. I need to tell you that I love you, Mike. I love you. That's all. Pure and simple."

 

That smile, that damn, infuriating, incredible, impossible smile played across Mike's face again. "I know. You wouldn't have risked our friendship if you didn't. I love you too."

 

"Yeah, I kinda gathered that from the laundry list of my attributes you recited earlier."

 

"Did I remember to include cocky and arrogant on that list?"

 

Harvey smirked. "Don't forget handsome."

 

"Again, did I remember to include cocky and arrogant on that list?"

 

"Yeah, I think they were on there somewhere."

 

Still smirking, Harvey drew Mike in for another slow kiss, deep and unforgettable. Both cursed the need for oxygen when they had to break apart to breathe.

 

Harvey glanced at the clock on the wall which was fast approaching midnight.

 

"Happy birthday, Mike. Looks like I made it in just under the wire."

 

Mike, still breathless, flushed, coming undone at Harvey's every touch, every breath, every look, "It wouldn't have mattered if you hadn't. I'd have waited forever for you too."

 

Harvey felt a little like swooning himself. He was lighter and happier than he could ever remember being. He knew what he wanted and he decided to go for it. He hadn't come here planning to do this tonight, but it felt right. More than anything ever had before. Except Mike. Mike had always felt right. What the hell, he always did his best thinking on his feet anyway, right? _In for a penny, in for a pound_...

 

"So... you meant it before? When you said the rest of your life?"

 

"I meant it," Mike replied, simply.

 

"Well, do you think you might want to make it official? As in 'till death us do part' official?" Harvey was suddenly nervous again. It felt right to him, but would Mike feel the same?

 

"Was that a... Are you... Did you just...", Mike floundered.

 

"Propose? Yeah, nothing gets by you, does it, Mike? What do you say, do you want to get..."

 

"Married?"

 

"Married."

 

"Married??"

 

"Yeah. Married."

 

" _Married?!_ "

 

" _Married!! Jeez!!_ What is this, an Abbott and Costello routine?! You know, fun as it is trading 'Sixteen Candles' quotes back and forth with you and all, I was kind of hoping we could get to the you saying yes to me part soon. Preferably before we have to start paying royalties to John Hughes' estate."

 

Mike smiled and Harvey's whole attitude softened instantly.

 

"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot to take in and I just hit you with all of this tonight, and now I'm expecting you to answer a life changing question without giving you any time to process everything that's happened when your life has already changed so much in the past couple of years. If you need time to think about it, I understa..."

 

"No," Mike interjected.

 

"What? Oh. Okay. Yeah, no, I get it." Harvey tried not to sound too disappointed, but he knew he was failing miserably. "It's too quick. Too much, too soon. I understand."

 

" _No,_ you idiot."

 

"Jesus, Mike, okay, I got the message."

 

"No," Mike sighed, exasperated. "You didn't. You're not listening to me. I wasn't saying, _no, I won't marry you_ , I was saying, _no, I don't need time to think about it._ We've always been all in, you and I. Why should now be any different? The answer's yes! Yes! Of course, I'll marry you! Any time, any place, anywhere."

 

Harvey beamed. "Okay, I'm pretty sure that was the slogan to a Martini ad, but I'll take it."

 

"You better."

 

"For better or worse."

 

"Better. Definitely better."

 

"I guess this means the best bakery in the city can expect another cake order."

 

"Yeah, and I think we both know what the first song at our wedding is going to be."

 

 _Our wedding._ They grinned, both loving how that sounded.

 

"Damn straight. Now that I've finally got you listening to some decent music."

 

Mike snorted. "Oh, like The Spinners, you mean?!"

 

Harvey's eyes narrowed, but Mike caught the smile he was trying to hide.

 

"Shut up and kiss me, heathen," Harvey muttered.

 

"Aye, aye, captain."

 

Strong arms, soft lips and the person he loved and trusted most in the world offering him them both. _Oh yes,_ Mike thought, _I could definitely get used to this._

 

Unsurprisingly, Harvey's thoughts were in perfect sync.

 

When they once again drew apart for air Harvey pressed a kiss to Mike's temple and whispered in his ear, "So, as birthdays go, how does this one rate?"

 

Mike responded by taking Harvey's hand in his and leading him to the bedroom. As they sank down on to the bed together he looked at Harvey above him and said, without a shadow of doubt in his mind, "Best. Birthday. Ever."

 

Neither of them knew how they were ever going to top it, but that was all right. They had the rest of their lives together to figure it out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I'm back with more tooth-rotting candy floss. Sorry about that. Hope it wasn't too cloying and that all the 80s movie references didn't get too much for you. And, yes, I really do love Otis Redding. 
> 
> The "Just put your lips together and blow" line is from the 1944 Humphrey Bogart/Lauren Bacall movie, 'To Have and Have Not', by the way, in case anyone was wondering. And sadly neither it, nor any of the other movies, songs or characters mentioned, including our lovely Mike and Harvey belong to me. More's the pity.
> 
> Also, apologies to anyone who owns any luxury hotels in Danbury. ;-)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you found something to enjoy here. Come and say hi if you want to in the comments section or on tumblr. I'm novemberhush over there too. Take care, and if you made it this far, thanks for reading! :-)


End file.
